Someone Will Die
by lovergirl85
Summary: Part 3. Jason gets ill.


I don't own Batman. If I did, Starfire would be wearing clothes.

Jason was going to murder someone. It was as simple as that. Before the night was over, someone was going to die. Maybe he'd track down the new Robin and beat him up. That always seemed to work in past. He'd felt great after he'd beat the crap out of the replacement.

Okay, so he _might've_ felt a little bit guilty a few days later. But man, he wasn't stupid. He'd just beat up Batman's sidekick. No way in hell was he going to apologize.

As it were, it was nearing dawn and Jason was feeling peeved. He'd been sneezing continually throughout the night and his throat felt like it was swelling up. He knew what was wrong. He'd had the flu before when he was younger and he definitely remembered what it felt like. It was just as a miserable experience then as it was now.

In retrospect, Jason decided that he could be slightly reasonable about this. After all, he knew flu season was coming up and he was the one who decided not to go in and get his shots. It was his fault. But Jason didn't want to be reasonable. He'd had a lousy week and throwing this in on top of it wasn't helping at all.

"Red Hood." Jason barely moved as Batman moved up behind him. Maybe he'd take on Batman. If he failed and got beat up, Goldie would at least drop him in front of a hospital and then he'd get his flu taken care of. And to do that, he'd need to provoke him. Jason racked his brain for something to throw at Batman, but he wasn't coming up with anything.

"You could just come visit me during the day, Goldie," he finally said. "I am available." There was silence for a long moment.

"You're a lot harder to find during the day," Batman finally admitted. Jason snorted. He'd take that as a compliment that Batman, even if he was Grayson, couldn't find him.

"What the hell do you want?" He asked. Batman settled down beside him on the edge of a rooftop, letting his legs dangle over the side. He obviously felt more comfortable around Jason than he originally anticipated. Jason would have to rectify that soon. Maybe he'd shove him off the edge of the roof. They watched the night crowd on the streets below for a few minutes before Jason got fed up with waiting.

"What do you want, Goldie?" He repeated, sounding more annoyed then before. Batman shrugged.

"Just wanted to see how you were feeling," he answered casually.

"I'm a peachy-keen," Jason snapped. "Now go away." Batman turned to regard him. Jason could only assume it was curiously. He couldn't really see his face after all.

"Really?" Batman repeated. "Because you sound like your throat is getting a little scratchy."

"My throat is none of your business, scratchy or otherwise," Jason growled. "Go away." Batman ignored him. Jason wanted to punch him.

"I think it is." Batman turned back to watch the crowd. "Red Robin and Robin have both gotten sick. I had to come check on you." Jason snorted.

"No you didn't," he snapped. "Because I don't _need_ a baby-sitter. Now, Dickie-boy, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get some shut eye before the butt-crack of dawn shows itself."

With that, Jason turned and disappeared into the shadows.

BMBMBMBM

The next day, someone showed up in front of Jason's front door, ringing the doorbell incessantly, but politely. Jason groaned and pulled the covers up over his head, wishing for nothing more than the person on the other side to _go away_ because he felt awful and he wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep.

There was the sound of the door opening a few minutes later and Jason couldn't even bring himself to sit up. How pathetic was that? He opened his mouth to yell obscenities at the person but before the words could leave his mouth…

"Really, Master Jason. Since your new status of crime lord, I would've thought that you would be able to procure better facilities for yourself."

Aw, hell. It was _Alfred._ He couldn't yell at Alfred. That just didn't happen, whether you be hero, vigilante, villain or civilian. Sure the occasional villain beat him up, but they didn't _yell_ at him. Jason settled for pulling the covers back down from his face and glowering at the butler.

"'ow da hell did you fibe me?" He demanded.

"Master Dick followed you last night," Alfred informed him, crossing over to the bed and checking Jason's temperature.

"But…but eben Bruce 'ad trouble fibing me!" Jason objected, settling slightly under the touch.

"Yes, well, your training doesn't do you any good if you're not in any condition to put it to use," Alfred tutted.

"I wab fine!"

"I can tell. Which is why Master Dick was able to follow you back to your dwelling place without your knowing, disarm your security _and_ straighten up…all while you were putting your training to use, of course."

Jason didn't know it was possible for Alfred to be so blatantly sarcastic.

And now that he looked around…yeah, his apartment did look cleaner and…was that a basket of clean laundry? The hell was up with that? Dick did his _laundry _for him? Jason was pretty sure that was something that was not supposed to happen, at all, under any circumstance whatsoever.

"'ow did Goldie eben know I wab sick anyway?" Jason was already compiling a list of reasons of why Dick had to die _before_ the replacement…either of them. It was growing rapidly. Alfred pulled a duffel bag out from under the bed, went to the closet and dumped the cache of weapons carelessly on the floor before going over to Jason's dresser and began packing the bag. "Hey!"

"Master Jason, I have been caring for two sick young men for the past five days, and am about to add a third to the list. Because of that, you _will_ be coming back to the Manor with me and you will be staying there until you are well. And there will be _no_ bloodshed. It is an absolute pain to clean the stains out of the upholstery."

The sad thing was, Jason was certain the elderly man was speaking from personal experience.

He grumbled the entire way down the stairs and to the car and all the way back to the manor and then all the way up to the room he was staying in. He was more than a little pissed when he found it was directly next to the youngest, diagonal from the replacement's and directly across from Dick's. Jason wondered how on earth Alfred was expecting the four of them to survive. Dick had a chance…he was the only one who wasn't sick, something Jason was becoming suspicious about. After all, he was the one who had had prolonged exposure to the other two. Then again, so had Alfred, but Jason didn't think for a minute that Alfred would let something silly like a disease affect him. That was for mere mortals, after all.

"Jason! Alfred found you all right, good." Jason growled as the ray of sunshine named Dick Grayson entered the room, beaming like he and Jason were old friends.

"Wab did you do, Grabeson?" He demanded, taking the pills that Alfred handed him automatically. Dick smiled winningly at him.

"Not sure what you mean, Jay-Bird," Dick told him cheerfully. "But it's a good thing you're here. Now we don't have to run across town to take care of you." That pretty much confirmed in Jason's mind. This was totally Dick's fault.

"I ab going to kill you," he threatened. "Dis id your fault and I ab going to kill you." Dick frowned in confusion. Jason didn't believe it for a minute.

"You know, Tim and Damian keep saying the exact same thing," he told Jason. "But I don't understand why they think that it's my fault they got sick." Jason snarled. Maybe he could get the replacements to help. If what Dick was saying was true, then he was surrounded by three vengeful, Batman-trained protégées, who, as soon as they got better, weren't going to give him a chance to run.

"Why ib he here?" A disdainful voice from the doorway spoke. Both men looked over in surprise to see Damian standing the doorway, wrapped in a quilt.

"Damian! You sound better," Dick told him, grinning. "Jason's here so that Alfred has an easier time taking care of you guys." Jason snorted. Right. That's what this was about.

"Grayson, if he murders us all in our sleep, I personally will never forgive you," Damian informed Dick, glowering even more. Jason made to sit up.

"I'b not daying 'ere," he snarled. "And listening to _dat_." He pointed at Damian, who was looking utterly unrepentant. Dick shot Damian a scowl and forced Jason back down.

"You are going to lie down or I'm getting Alfred," he threatened. "Damian, be civil or leave." Damian scoffed, but stayed where he was in the doorway. Jason glowered. "I'm going to go get something for you to eat. Both of you, _behave__**."**_

There was silence for a few minutes of silence as Jason and Damian glared at each other, arms crossed over their chests. Finally, Jason finally cocked his head to the side a little bit, studying him. He was mad at Dick. Damian was mad at Dick. Odds were Condom Head was probably mad at Dick, too. Dick was a moron. This could work to their advantage.

"Hey, you wanna go get the other replacement and we can plot revenge?" Damian scoffed.

"I am not a reblacement, Todd," he snapped, his voice still slightly stuffy. Jason snorted.

"Dude, I'm older, I came first, ergo, you're the replacement of the replacement. You wanna go get him or you just let Grayson have his way?" Damian glowered, but a moment later he stalked to Tim's room and there were muffled voices. Jason was slightly surprised to see Tim following Damian into the room. Tim didn't get along with either of them, both of them having beat him nearly half to death. Tim was either really mad or really stupid.

Jason decided that it was kind of nice proposing ridiculous ideas to kill Dick that wouldn't actually happen with other people.

Though Damian looked as though he was taking the vat of acid very seriously.


End file.
